


The Moulin Rouge

by AnnieLoveHappens



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF, Trixya - Fandom
Genre: Always Female Katya Zamolodchikova, Always Female Trixie Mattel, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bisexual Katya Zamolodchikova, F/F, Forbidden Love, Inspired by Moulin Rouge!, Lesbian Trixie Mattel, Love, Moulin Rouge References, Prostitution, Sad Ending, Smut, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29929533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieLoveHappens/pseuds/AnnieLoveHappens
Summary: Beatrice Mattel, a young curious girl who dreams of being a writer, finds herself in Paris when her uncle is negotiating a possible investment in the Moulin Rouge. The nightclub and brothel, ruled over by RuPaul Charles, soon pulls Beatrice into a world which she has never known, and introduces her to the woman who would change her life forever.The Sparkling Diamond;Katya ZamolodchikovaThe star of the Moulin Rouge.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the movie "Moulin Rouge" but will also stray from the movie's storyline.

The Moulin Rouge.

A Nightclub. A dance hall and a bordel.  
Ruled over by RuPaul Charles, it was a kingdom of nighttime pleasures.  
It was where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. 

The most beautiful of all was the woman I loved;

Katya.

A courtesan. 

She sold her love to men, bewitched them with words and body.  
They called her The Sparkling Diamond, and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge.

The woman I loved is dead.

But I must keep my promise, and honor the words that I still believe in despite all that transpired. 

_The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return._

It is because of my love for her that I am telling you this story, forcing my fingers to write each heartbreaking word down. My love for her remains endless, and so I will honor my promise.

But to do so, we must go back to the start. 

_I first came to Paris one year ago..._


	2. The Children Of The Revolution

_I first came to Paris one year ago..._

The year was 1899, the summer of love. Actress Sarah Bernhardt had just taken over the management of the Paris Theatre and renamed it Théâtre Sarah-Bernhardt, and Emile Loubet had been elected president following the death of Félix Faure. The world had been swept up in a bohemian revolution and I wanted more than anything to be a part of it. I was traveling with my uncle, knowing very little of his plans to invest in the Moulin Rouge, and even less about the place itself. 

My mother had been hesitant about allowing me to travel from London, especially since my uncle would be staying in the village of Montmartre, situated on a hill near Paris. Mother described Montmartre as a village of sin, and found it to be quite unfitting of a lady to visit such a place. But my father convinced her by stating that seeing such grim places would remind me of why such modern ideals could be dangerous, and he also assured her that I would mostly spend my time in the center of Paris among other members of high society. 

I however had no intention of shying away from the ideals of the bohemians. I wanted to write about it, experience being a "Children of the Revolution", spend all my spare time with writers, musicians and painters. High society had never been my wish, the thought of being a wife and mother seemed quite unappealing indeed, but there in Montmartre in the center of the world of bohemians, there I felt my first taste of freedom. There I could write about truth, beauty, freedom, and that of which I believed in above all things; love. My trouble however was that I had never in fact been in love.

Luckily, as I was walking around pondering my dilemma, breaking my uncle's rules regarding staying inside his apartment whenever he was away, a woman who looked like a swamp witch came flying out of a window. Moments later a young man dressed as a nun came running out of the same building, and he quickly helped me up, strangely leaving the now unconscious woman.

"How do you do? I am Peter, although most call me Pete."

"Beatrice, but I prefer Trixie, and I am fine, I think." I replied.

"Terribly sorry, we're just upstairs rehearsing a play." The man said. 

"A play?" I inquired, feeling quite overwhelmed but still very intrigued, especially as the rehearsal had clearly been intense since it sent a performer out the window. 

The play was something very modern called "Spectacular Spectacular", set in Switzerland, which was interesting as none of the performers or the writer were or had ever been to Switzerland. The swamp witch, who I quickly learned was named Jinkx, apparently had a terrible problem with narcolepsy. She could be perfectly fine one moment, but once pressure kicked in she could all of a sudden fall right asleep. 

Suddenly three other people appeared in the broken window. A bald headed woman named Bob, a boldly clad woman with long black hair called Adore, and a man dressed as a woman, wearing more makeup than I had ever seen on anyone, going by the name of Bianca. 

"How is she?" Bianca asked before looking at the unconscious woman laying on the ground. "Oh wonderful, now the narcoleptic is unconscious as well. How will we ever finish the scenario in time to present to the financier tomorrow?" She added in clear annoyance.

"She's right Pete, I still have to finish up the music." Adore chimed in.

"That's not an issue, we'll just find someone to read the part." Pete replied.

"Oh, of course! Tell me Pete, where in heaven's name do you suggest we find someone to read the role of a young, sensitive, Swiss, poet and goat herder?" Bianca said.

Before I knew it, I was upstairs, standing in for the narcoleptic swamp witch as the Swiss goat herder. Rehearsal was an unmatched chaos, hell itself could not be more disorganized, Adore and Bianca constantly arguing about the music and lyrics, Bianca's phrases far too long to fit in the melodies Adore had crafted. Still, I loved every second of it, entranced by finally being among the free thinkers of the revolution. Trouble came however once I started pitching in ideas regarding how to fix the lyrics by singing them out loudly above all the arguing. Adore, Bob and Pete were quite impressed, even Jinkx chiming in with words of praise once she awoke. Bianca however did not enjoy the idea of someone fixing her work.

And things got even worse once Pete said;

"Bianca, you two should write the show together."

"I beg your pardon?" Bianca responded in outrage.

Apparently the suggestion was far from what Bianca wanted to hear, and moments later she was storming out the door.

"Goodbye!" She yelled out as she slammed the door shut, taking all her things with her.

Pete however was remarkably calm about the situation, completely certain of the new choice of writer, although I had not in fact agreed to write the show.

"Cheers to your first job in Paris." He said as he downed a glass of absinthe.

"Pete, RuPaul would never agree. No offense, but have you ever written anything like this before?" Jinkx asked me.

"No." I said honestly.

"Ah, the young girl has talent, I like her!" Bob said, putting her arms out to the side which made her hand come in direct contact with my right breast, something which she seemed unbothered by once she noticed, whilst I was completely in shock at the physical contact.

"Listen, with Trixie we can write the truly revolutionary show that we've always dreamt of." Pete argued.

"But how would we convince RuPaul?" Adore asked.

But Pete had a plan;

Katya.

They would dress me up in Pete's best suit, disguising me as a man, and pass me off as a famous English writer. Pete was convinced that once Katya heard my modern poetry, she would be astounded and insist to RuPaul that I write Spectacular Spectacular. The only problem was that I kept hearing my parents' and my uncle's voices in my head, scolding my interest in literature and writing, and stating that I would become penniless and shut out from high society with no marriage prospects if I ever attempted to go after my passion. Usually the idea of not getting married would not worry me, but now that it was all becoming real, panic was setting in.

"No, I can't write a show for the Moulin Rouge."

"Why not?" Bob asked. I didn't know what to say, I couldn't tell them the truth. How could I say that I was the niece of a Duke, a high born lady who in no way belonged in their company?

"I-I don't even know if I am a true revolutionary." I replied.

"What? Do you believe in beauty?" Pete asked.

"Yes."

"Freedom?" Bob said.

"Yes, of course."

"Truth?" Jinkx asked.

"Yes."

"Love?" Adore said.

"Love... Above all things I believe in love. Love is a blessing, even tho I have seen it so cursed, I know it is. There's nothing I want more than to fall in love. I believe the greatest thing we can ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." I said.

"See, you can't fool us, you are the voice of the Children of the Revolution." Pete said.

It was the perfect plan, he said, destiny coming into play and sending me to them. We clinked our glasses in celebration, the green fairy's potion inside them, it was my very first glass of absinthe. And with that we were off to the Moulin Rouge, and I was to perform my poetry for Katya.


End file.
